My Identity: A Test

All my life I have felt intense wanderlust. When I was little I would stare out my bedroom window, singing a song about the sea:

"Out of my window, looking in the night,
I can see those barges flickering light.
Silently flows the river to the sea
as the barges too flow silently."

Barges!
I would like to go with you,
I would like to sail the Ocean blue.

Barges!
Is there treasure in your hold,
do you fight with pirates brave and bold?"

I loved travel from an early age. I went to the naval academy so I could live a life of constant adventure, fight pirates, and become a woman warrior. I stayed at the Naval Academy long after I should have because I got accepted to the Air Force Academy and would have the chance to jump out of planes, and fly planes. I became a bike messenger, so I could get paid for riding my bike. I have tried out for survivor, and attempted to get a job for six months as the care taker at an island reef. Last summer, my first summer off as a teacher, I planned every day but five days away from my house.

This summer, I was looking forward to mini-escapes, time with Boyfriend and friends, a church camping trip, and writing and doing art. Then I found out about this ride from New York City to LA this summer for two months. The ride promoted some bike film festivals, as well as advertized for vodka company. It payed $3000 plus $25 per day, as well as $800 airfare. I was excited! I had a chance, once again, to get paid for riding my bike. I was already going to NYC with Sara and LA with Boyfriend this summer; now I would get my Airfare paid. The were looking for bloggers--I could blog all the way across country. I could send post cards, right?

But I didn't feel settled about it. Its not that I thought I wouldn't have a relationship when I got back--I wasn't afraid of boyfriend and I breaking up--but I was afraid that I would be setting up a trend of making selfish decisions. It felt overly-ambitious. Even though I feel a sense of community and purpose here, it felt like a chance to get ahead, make a name for myself, make some money, in a cheap way--one that is not in line with where I am going. I know there is a story there, but I know that I have a story here too--and I picked the characters. I could still go to NYC with Sara, and LA with Boyfriend, and they were all about me going, but it didn't seem like they really meant it.

The more people I asked, the more confusing it got. This guy who own's my favorite Argentinian restaurant illustrates my friend's responses. One time I asked him, do you Tango? He said, "Of course not!". I came in at 2:00 in the morning and and asked him, "do you serve coffee this late?" He said, "Of course!" His answers are completely extreme and unpredictible to me! The same with everyone I asked about this decision. My parents said, "Of course you should go!" My 12-step friend said, "Its a no-brainer! Don't go!" Boyfriend and Sara said, "Definitely!" Even though I don't believe they meant it.

I met my friend Jo yesterday and went to the salvage yard to look for art treasures. I picked up some cool old windows, and we talked. Jo asked me some questions about the ride. I told her that there was no way I could refuse it if it was offered to me. I also told her that I didn't think I was really powerless over food. I told her if I got the gig, that was my decision--it was made up for me.

Today, I woke up and read Matthew 27. It has the story with Pontius Pilate. You know, he didn't really want to be involved with Jesus' death, but he didn't really want to make a decision. In the end, he was still culpible for crucifying Christ. I didn't really want to go on the ride, but I didn't believe I could turn it down...what sane, jobless, bike-loving, wanna-be famous blogger would? I didn't know what decision to make, but I knew I needed to take responsibility for it. I also read about Judas Iscariot. Maybe he wasn't truely evil. Maybe he just wanted to be in control--he wanted to force Jesus' hand, and make him do something different, more fabulous. Well he changed his mind, and it was too late. The moment passed, Jesus was going to die, he was responsible, and he couldn't take it back.

Ahh I killed Jesus!

No, really, what I was thinking about was how I can't do this ride expecting to undo the consequences it may cause. Its not like me and Boyfriendd would break up, but it would cause some strain. Its not like I wouldn't be a part of my church community, but I would not get the time back that we would share together. Its not that I would never do art, but i wouldn't do art now.

So I prayed a little, ate two bagels, a doughnut, and an lb of chocolate and decided that I needed to turn it down. Then I cried for an hour, called my parents, and hung up on them when they didn't give me unconditional positive support, left a message with my boyfriend, told Deter that I didn't want to talk, and when he asked if we would keep in touch I said that we would not. I was a terrible teacher all day, and even left school early. I sweared uncontrollibly, and even debated calling them back. I was numb enough from overeating not to feel the intensity of the demons on my shoulder, my back, reminding me that I will end up normal, average, sitting in front of a TV or X-box, watching sports, having kids (God forbid!) eating ice cream, and living in the suburbs--but i could still hear their muffled laughter.

My messenger frenemy, a girl who simply doesn't like me, got the gig. I don't think there was a competition on my part, but it feals like I lost. Like the psalm that says "I stumbled when my eyes followed the wicked to their riches.." I am not saying she is wicked. Its more like, I am trying to do the right thing but I see the rewards of the other choice slipping out of my fingers and given to another girl, someone who abhores me and the way I do things. It wasn't about her, but it may have been a little about keeping up with her, and everyone else who is doing fabulous things.

I guess I chose community over competition, intuitive sense of purpose over compulsive adventure-seeking, unknown blessing over obvious prosperity, commitment to future purpose instead of one last fling of youth. It seemed like the "right" decision. Then why do I feel so crappy (other then the 5000 calories of carbs that I ate?) Even if I did make the right decision, what I do now could still screw it up. If I go from here into self-destructive indulgence, self-pity, regret and defensive exploding at anyone who asks me about it, that is probably not going to work out for me. If I can believe that there is something in this, that somehow, God will reward what I believed was the first decision I have made to choose the less glamerous route, then maybe I have a chance...